


Crookshanks and the Worst Weekend

by Aneiria



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crookshanks, Domestic Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, HP Fluff Fest 2020, Kneazles, Lost Kitten, New Relationship, surprise visitor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:47:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25981576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aneiria/pseuds/Aneiria
Summary: In which Crookshanks' perfect weekend is ruined by the arrival of a tiny, annoying, infuriating kneazle kitten who follows him home, and the wizard who comes looking for it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 57
Kudos: 444
Collections: HP Fluff Fest 2020





	Crookshanks and the Worst Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> This was my first time writing a story partly from Crookshanks' point of view, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it!
> 
> Crookshanks and the Worst Weekend has been translated into Vietnamese by [Scarletttran124](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarletttran124/profile). You can find it on [Wattpad](https://www.wattpad.com/998568954-crookshanks-and-the-worst-weekend?utm_source=ios&utm_medium=link&utm_content=share_writing&wp_page=create_writer&wp_uname=ScarlettTran1204&wp_originator=eJy6yRzKbW0s5OfLLjHL%2BcqxSsOz5e82qxwJBRtBDAgBP%2FrNA4duzodqjjpl1Aqr4sq6XC%2FGo%2BbqX9JA%2Fj5XppLh%2BN3kqU%2FJfIDQlkzbJWbzh2%2FyasNgsnvi6qw3aM%2BS&_branch_match_id=869340383783533053) and [Wordpress](https://sweetdaringcreations.wordpress.com/2020/12/20/crookshanks-and-the-worst-weekend/).
> 
> Huge thanks to [Jelena](https://simplifiedemotions.tumblr.com/) for the awesome beta, to Miyo for the prompt, and to the mods for hosting the fest.

Crookshanks was having a very good morning. 

Being a malignant, grumpy, belligerent giant of a half-kneazle with a conveniently squashed face that scared people away was hard work at times. Just this morning, Crookshanks had woken early and licked the bushy-haired one’s nose until she grumbled and rolled over, telling him to bugger off and leave her alone for another hour. 

The bushy-haired one did a good job serving him, so Crookshanks decided — rather magnanimously, to allow her a lie-in just this once. Bottlebrush tail straight in the air, he trotted out of the bedroom on his bandy legs, down the corridor, and through the flap in the door the bushy-haired one kept for him. 

The morning was glorious. 

Crookshanks loved Saturdays, although he didn’t know that’s what they were called. It was always quiet on those mornings, absent of people he could paw treats from, or generally terrorise. Fewer humans meant more wildlife, however. Well, what wildlife one could find on the streets of London. 

Over the course of the morning Crookshanks hunted a number of tiny, pretty songbirds. He yowled at a squirrel and chased it up a tree, but the jittery creature jumped easily across to another tree and disappeared. He hissed at a brazen urban fox on a morning patrol, making it turn tail and slink away again with its ears laid back with worry. 

Currently, Crookshanks was happily lying beside a pond in one of the parks near the house the bushy-haired one kept for him. He dangled a giant orange paw in the water, enduring the horrid cold wetness to bat at the terrified fish below the surface. The sun warmed his ginger fur and he purred happily to himself. 

Soon, he would return to the bushy-haired one and allow her to feed him some food he would turn his nose up at — just to keep her in her place, and then insist on climbing into her arms when she tried to look at one of those boring bundles of paper she was so fond of. The larger the bundle, the more likely she was to stick her face into it and ignore him, as if Crookshanks wasn’t the most important thing in her life.Crookshanks couldn’t have known then that all of his carefully laid out Saturday plans would be for naught. Something _terrible_ was brewing in his idyllic life.

‘Crookshanks?’ Hermione Granger stood in the doorway of her London house, shaking a jar of cat treats as she called for her familiar. 

Usually Crookshanks should have returned from his Saturday morning meander by now, and insisted on disturbing her afternoon reading session. When she had successfully read through five chapters with no interruptions, Hermione got worried.

As she shook the treats and called for him, she felt her heart jump in relief as a familiar blur of orange fur hurried down the path to their little house, chirruping in discontent as he did.

‘Crookshanks!’ Hermione leaned down in relief to lift the big bundle of cat into her arms, burying her face in the warm, familiar scent of his fur. The smell of him always reminded her of freshly cut grass and wildflower meadows, probably because he spent a lot of time there chasing bumblebees. ‘There you are, I’ve been worried—’

Hermione’s words were cut off by a pitiful yowl of unhappiness from Crookshanks and a tiny, high-pitched mewl from the ground. Peering over the unruly ginger fur down to the paving stones beneath her feet, Hermione let out a small _oh_ of surprise. 

A tiny, silver-haired kitten with dark grey speckles sat on the ground before her, looking up at Hermione and Crookshanks with its bright blue eyes. 

‘Crookshanks, who is this little one?’ Hermione cooed, leaning forward to observe the kitten more clearly. ‘Did it follow you home?’ Crookshanks huffed discontentedly, which Hermione took for a yes. She looked back down at the kitten as she pondered its appearance.

It was a strange looking kitten, Hermione thought to herself. It had large, bat-like ears and a plumed tail like a tiny lion.

‘Oh my,’ Hermione said as understanding slowly dawned on her. This wasn’t an ordinary kitten: this was a kneazle. And a full kneazle too, it looked like, not a half-kneazle like Crookshanks. Hermione took the treat jar from the ground and rattled it encouragingly towards the kneazle kitten, opening the front door and making inviting clucking noises with her tongue. As Crookshanks grumbled in annoyance, the tiny kitten got to its feet and followed them inside, its plumed tail held high. 

Once inside, Hermione gently placed Crookshanks on the sofa and knelt down on the floor, holding out a cautious hand for the kitten to sniff. It sat opposite Hermione, its tiny pink nose delicately sniffing her hand, and gently accepted the proffered treat from her fingers.

‘I wonder where Crookshanks found you,’ Hermione mused out loud as the kitten climbed into her lap and started to purr loudly. ‘He’s never brought another kneazle home before. You must belong to a witch or wizard, but I didn’t think there were any near here.’ 

As the kitten started kneading her thighs through her jeans, Hermione wandlessly summoned a piece of parchment and a quill to her, and started writing a letter to the _Daily Prophet_. 

Crookshanks glowered at Hermione with his big yellow eyes the entire time.

On Sunday morning, Hermione was woken by two kneazles licking at her face. 

She grimaced and rolled over, trying to bat them away, but it was harder to ignore now Crookshanks had a companion. Groaning and muttering under her breath about getting a dog next time, Hermione dragged herself out of bed, poured out two bowls of cat food, and made herself a strong cup of tea as she sat down at the kitchen table with the morning _Prophet_ in hand. Sure enough, they’d printed the missing kneazle notice she’d sent them. All she could do now was wait and see.

It was later that afternoon when the doorbell finally rang. Hermione got to her feet, looking over at the tiny kitten that was currently sitting like a king on Crookshanks’ enormous purple velvet bed, as Crookshanks glowered at it from the floor. 

‘That should be your witch or wizard, little one,’ Hermione said to the kneazle kitten, and Crookshanks hissed in response. 

Hermione pulled open her front door, a welcoming smile ready on her face. 

When she saw who it was that stood on her doorstep, however, with his familiar, flashing grey eyes and arrogantly-curled mouth, Hermione’s smile faded away.

Crookshanks had never before met anyone quite like the tall, silver-haired creature that now sat in his domain, a teacup in hand. 

The bushy-haired one seldom let people visit her, other than the messy black-haired man and the freckled ginger one. Crookshanks felt sorry for the freckled one, as he only had ginger fur on his head and it was nowhere near as thick and beautiful as Crookshanks’ own fur. Whenever the freckled beast came along Crookshanks would firmly place himself around his shoulders and do what he could to groom the creature, while it mewled and complained to the bushy-haired one in the nonsense human language Crookshanks had never understood. 

The ginger beast was a strange creature, but this silver-haired one was even stranger. Crookshanks went over and sat on the armrest of the sofa the intruder had sat himself on, staring intently into his eyes. 

Crookshanks was half-kneazle, after all, and kneazles were renowned for sniffing out honesty.

This man, however, was a blank canvas. 

Crookshanks could sense nothing in him or around him, no clue of character or countenance. Crookshanks huffed in annoyance and shuffled forward, peering deeper into the silver eyes. 

There had to be _something_.

‘What on earth is wrong with your cat, Granger?’ The silver-haired one drawled after several long minutes of Crookshanks observing him. He shifted slightly in his seat, finally showing some discomfort.

A-ha! _Emotion_. Crookshanks carried on staring.

‘I have no idea,’ the bushy-haired one was saying now, in a bewildered voice. ‘Crookshanks! Leave Mal - er, leave Draco alone!’

But Crookshanks was a cat, and didn’t understand what those words meant. 

There was something in this strange creature, just below the surface. With full concentration, Crookshanks could just make out brief glimpses of it, like moving water beneath a cracked surface of ice. He shuffled closer still.

It was fleeting, but like a string of yarn he just had to keep pulling it until he found the tether.

The man turned to fix Crookshanks with his own gaze, and for a full, glorious second, Crookshanks was _in_.

Crookshanks chirruped in surprise.

Hidden behind his carefully blank facade, this creature was - for some reason - hiding away the biggest, most loving, most _honest_ heart Crookshanks had ever seen in a creature, beyond his bushy-haired servant and the two friends that sometimes visited her. Here was a beast that would do anything to protect those he loved.

Crookshanks was a cat, and he cared little for why the silver-haired creature hid away his true nature so carefully. All he cared about was that he’d seen it now, and judged it worthy. 

Getting to his paws, Crookshanks marched forward, stepping delicately into the silver-haired one’s lap, and settled himself down. The tiny, annoying scrap of silver fur that was apparently another kneazle stared at him with eyes as wide as the bushy-haired one’s from her arms. 

Crookshanks ignored them all. He closed his eyes and started to loudly purr.

‘Well,’ Hermione said in speechless surprise as Crookshanks settled his enormous orange body in Draco’s lap. ‘That’s never happened before,’ she added sheepishly, but she couldn’t stop the shy smile she gave him. 

Draco, to his credit, didn’t even give a sneer as her familiar shed ginger hair all over his black trousers. Instead he smiled ruefully, the corners of lips crooking upwards in a surprisingly endearing manner. 

‘Kneazles like me, for some reason,’ he admitted, and the little silver kitten on her lap chirruped, seemingly in agreement. ‘Clearly they like you as well,’ Draco added, smiling as he watched his own kitten pad around in circles a few times before settling down to sleep on Hermione’s legs. ‘Her name is Bastet,’ Draco said, and Hermione looked up in surprise.

‘After the Egyptian goddess?’ She asked. 

Draco nodded, his high cheekbones flushed a delicate pink. It made him look softer, Hermione decided. She had the most crazy notion to take him into her arms and kiss the spots of pink away. 

‘Bastet was the defender of the home,’ Draco said in a voice that suggested he wasn’t telling Hermione anything she didn’t already know. ‘I thought, after the war and everything that happened, I could do with any protection I could find.’ He shifted awkwardly in his seat, his cheekbones still pink, and Hermione knew Draco was telling her something he’d never admitted out loud before. Hermione felt her heart swell with the thought that Draco trusted her with something so personal. He gave her a rueful little smile. ‘The Manor is quite lonely with my parents in Azkaban. Having Bastet has brought a little bit of joy back to the empty halls.’

‘Oh, Draco,’ Hermione said, her voice gentle. 

Crookshanks looked up at her from Draco’s lap, his squashed face satisfied. If there was one thing Hermione had learned the hard way over the years, it was to always trust Crookshanks’ judgment. Not thinking twice, Hermione gathered Bastet in her arms and joined Draco on the sofa, sitting next to him so their thighs touched where the battered springs rolled inwards. 

Hermione Granger took a deep breath and turned to Draco Malfoy, clearly having a bold plan of some kind to initiate.

Crookshanks had made his escape. 

He was now sitting high up on the bookshelf on one of his favourite spots to survey his domain.

His domain which was, at the current point in time, in utter chaos. 

The tiny, annoying scrap of speckled silver fur that had followed him home yesterday was rolling happily on her back as she played with one of Crookshanks’ favourite toys, her needle-sharp kitten teeth leaving marks in it that would never fade. 

On the sofa, his bushy-haired servant was too preoccupied to feed or even pay attention to Crookshanks, as she was busy kissing the silver-haired one. 

The kitten chirruped and looked up at Crookshanks with adoration in her eyes. 

Crookshanks huffed loudly.

To his utter dismay, it looked as if he had just gained a step-sister.

This was the worst weekend ever.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> 🌻 This work is part of Fluff Fest, a Harry Potter-centered fest dedicated to fluffy themes, meet cutes and wholesome vibes.
> 
> If you’ve enjoyed this work, please show love and support to our precious content creators by leaving kudos and comments! 💌
> 
> [Feel free to check out the fest's tumblr for more updates. ](https://hpfluff-fest.tumblr.com/)


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